Chapter 14 (original edit)

Chapter XIV

As Wavestrider turned toward the oncoming pirate vessels, Jerrod realized that he was probably about to die. That realization struck him as amazing, especially considering its context. Here he was aboard a badly-outnumbered ilvan warship that was rushing toward a pirate flotilla in order to hopefully save a warrior who had humiliated him the first time that they had met. It astounded Jerrod to realize just how much he had changed in the past hand of five days. Not only had he gone from being a sheltered magician's apprentice who had traveled very little, and then only in well-guarded carriages that kept him in the lap of luxury and safety, but he had convinced an ilf, a member of race which he had seen from afar before but really only knew from legends, to follow his lead.

Perhaps, Jerrod mused, it is as it was meant to be. He was now an experienced wayfarer who had traveled on horseback, merchant ship, and naval vessel. He had become a member of a band of companions who had set out to save the world, survived being captured by trolls, killed a trollkin mage, met and been the guest of ilvan royalty, and was about to experience his first, and most likely last, naval battle. He had met and become romantically interested in two different women, one of whom was not a woman at all, but rather an ilfess.

His life was something completely different from what Jerrod had thought it would, and should, be. And remarkably, he was pleased with the alterations. Yet here he was, having convinced the captain to sacrifice his ship and their lives so that they might save a man who had not only embarrassed Jerrod the first time that they had met, but who was a member of a class that Jerrod had always despised and seen as of little use. Even more astonishing to the young mage was the recognition that flooded through him that he wouldn't have it any other way. Not only was he willing to sacrifice himself to save Urki if he must, but he knew in his heart of hearts that what he was doing was right and it was a choice for which he had no regrets.

One of the things that he did regret, Jerrod suddenly knew, was not his approaching doom, but rather the shallow way he had looked at the world until the recent past. His own prejudices had blinded him to so much. A person's value wasn't the sum of their birth and their profession, rather value was something that all living, thinking beings inherently had. And while no two individuals were the same, each had something of merit to offer. Even more important than what that strength was, was how one used it. It didn't matter if one was a peasant, an artisan, or a noble. Nobility was the product of how one lived, not the station in which one was born. It saddened Jerrod to know that up until now, his life had been anything but noble despite his birth and his training. He had done little with his talent and his other advantages, except use them as platforms from which to look down on others with disdain. The suicidal run which he was making right now was undoubtedly the most virtuous he had ever done. He just wished that he could survive the experience so that he could put his newly-won wisdom into practice. That, however, didn't seem likely right at the moment.

While Jerrod pondered his past, the ships were slowly beginning to draw nearer to one another. Looking up from his reflections, Jerrod saw that their stratagem had not worked quite as well as they had hoped. While the four smaller of the pirate craft did appear to be taking the bait which he had convinced Frothbreaker to set out for them, the other two, both of which were at least the size of Wavestrider, had declined to meet Wavestrider's challenge and were instead sailing directly for the beach.

That boded ill for Urki. While the warrior had expected two ships to disgorge cutthroats onto the Isle of Mists, he had expected that to be the full complement of his foes, or at least nearly so. Not only were he and his small band of marines going to have to face two shiploads of pirates, but they likely were also going to have to face the survivors of the encounter between Wavestrider and the other four corsair ships. It might well prove to be more than the warrior and his cohort could outlive.

Jerrod couldn't worry about that right now, however. The antagonistic ships were drawing ever closer to one another. They had nearly reached the range where the siege engines which they mounted would become effective. It was in this phase of combat in which the ilvan warship was at the smallest disadvantage. Not only did it carry a bigger and better long distance arsenal than any of the pirate ships, but its crew was more adept in operating them than were the pirates. This was even more true than was usual in the present combat, for, although Jerrod and his comrades didn't know it, the crews on the buccaneer vessels, while composed of the best sailors that the pirate fleet possessed, had little experience in working together. They had just been assembled in the past hand of five-days. That meant that none of them had ever before faced combat as an organized unit and so they hadn't yet developed the rapport that allowed a seasoned crew to function seamlessly. It was a small advantage, but it was one that gave their ilvan adversaries at least one edge to offset all of those which were on the pirate side of the ledger.

Two of the pirate craft fired the first shots from the single catapults that each mounted. One fired a boulder, the other fired some sort of naphtha mixture that was intended to start a blaze which would burn Wavestrider out of the water. Both fell short. Frothbreaker responded with a fire bolt from Wavestrider's bow-mounted arbalest which struck the lead corsair amidships. The pirates were able to douse the resultant flames before they spread, but the first shots had been fired and Jerrod and his friends could claim a victory, however minor, in at least the first exchange of salvos. They all knew though, that one battle is not the war and if they were to claim a more meaningful success, they would have to do far more than land the first blow. And that was just what Jerrod intended.

Focussing his will and preparing the spell which he had hung as Wavestrider approached the enemy, Jerrod selected one of the oncoming vessels as a target. With a word and a gesture, the young mage released the pent up energy of his incantation. An incandescent streak of mana darted toward the pirate craft and struck its sails and main mast. They burst into flames everywhere that the coruscating stream touched as if they had been doused in lamp oil. The afflicted ship quickly lost way and began to fall behind its brethren as the flames began to consume it.

Berit, too, was lost in concentration. Jerrod had selected the ship on the far left of the pirates mini-flotilla. Berit selected the one on the far right. Her magic was not as spectacular as that of the human mage. In fact, at first there was no evidence of her efforts to any but herself. Taking a cue from Urki, Berit had summoned her spirit and sent her consciousness winging toward her target. Reaching into the very fiber of the wood which comprised the ship's hull, she gently began to do two things at once. Selecting a plank, the ilvan spellcaster began to caress it with the energy of life. Slowly, like a flower bulb which, feeling the first fleeting warmth of spring, sends its first tendrils of green questing for the surface, the plank's wood began to grow. More and more rapidly, the affected board would swell and spread and, in so doing, disrupt the integrity of the hull. To insure the hull's failure, Berit then turned her attention to the boards on either side of the first. Using the same technique as she had to bring life to one board, she reached deep inside the others to bring death and dessication. With the sea soaking one side and magic dehydrating the other, the affected boards warped beyond all recognition. Slowly at first, but with increasing rapidity as the dual processes ignited by Berit's spell began to unfold, holes appeared in the husk of the marauder as wood began to slough away.

Soon, like its confederate, the pirate ship on the far left, too, was shuddering to a halt. Both ships were filled with chaos as their crews struggled to escape their disintegrating conveyances. Two down. That left two more with which Wavestrider had to deal. She had damaged both in the duel of ballistae, but unfortunately, the distance between the ilvan warship and its enemies had dwindled rapidly. No longer at range, where the ilvan craft had some sort of advantage, now it was the pirates' turn. Even worse, one of the two mages that were helping to equalize thing for the ilvan craft was down as well.

Berit had not been exaggerating when she had warned Urki that, while she could sink one of the pirate vessels from a distance, to do so would sorely try her reserves of strength. As soon as her spell had been completed, she had fallen to the deck in a swoon. Jerrod, seeing her distress had turned to tend to her.

Looking down at the still form of the fallen ilf, it suddenly dawned on Jerrod that his fantasies about Neun Ja were just that and nothing more. Here was a beautiful and talented ilvan warrior mage who had made it clear that she was interested in his company and he was shunning her on the basis of a vague hope that another beautiful and exotic woman might look his way. While there was nothing wrong with dreams, it now struck Jerrod as a little foolish to let this one keep him from exploring his potential relationship with Berit. He resolved then and there to investigate whatever possibilities there existed between himself and the ilvan maiden if they both survived. Now, however, it was time to fight.

Bearing down on their rival, the pirate captains swung their ships close. Twirling grappling hooks over their heads, several pirates waited at key points to ensnare Wavestrider. Without her marines, the ilvan warcraft was all but helpless to prevent them from doing so. The grapnels slammed into Wavestrider's deck. Her crew struggled valiantly to sever their unwanted connections with their foe, but to no avail. Slowly, but inexorably, the two pirate vessels drew closer. Soon, their decks aswarm with pirates anticipating their chance to clamber over to the deck of their foe, the pirate craft would be in range to send over boarding planks.

Jerrod looked up from the unconscious form of Berit to see that Wavestrider was about to be boarded. He quailed when he saw what seemed to be a veritable horde of pirates awaiting the closure of the last few inches of sea room between the three craft. Realizing that unless he could do something Wavestrider's badly outnumbered crew would be overwhelmed, Jerrod stood and turned toward the battle once more. The question was what could he do? Fire was worse than useless, it would harm friend and foe alike and perhaps take all three ships to the bottom of the sea. He didn't know any spells of death like those in which Ordolf specialized. How could he kill enough raiders to make a difference? Perhaps he could cast an illusion of some sort which would leave the buccaneers fighting phantoms. Whatever he decided to try, he realized, it had better to be now because if he hesitated at all it would likely mean his death and that all of his companions with their task of saving the shore party unfulfilled.

Too bad he couldn't stop time. Then he could consider the problem and develop a solution at his leisure. Jerrod suddenly stood still. That was it! Perhaps he couldn't stop time, but he could do something just about as effective. During the first few years of his apprenticeship to Astall, Jerrod had never had enough time to complete all of the tasks which the archmage had assigned to him. He was forever getting in trouble for his failure to fulfill all of his assigned duties. No matter how hard he worked, he was always running out of the time allotted before his chores were done. It wasn't because he was being less than diligent about his assignments, rather Astall just gave him more to do than any one person could do without assistance. One day the solution had hit him, what he needed was more time or more people to do his work. Both solutions were obvious and either would work. The trick was finding away to accomplish them.

Jerrod had spent hour after hour of his own time doing research in Astall's library before he came across an ancient tome in which the answer to his dilemma appeared. In fact, he found two cantrips which could solve his predicament. The first was a cantrip which accelerated the activity of whatever it was directed at. While it wasn't designed for use on human beings, in perusing the incantation Jerrod saw that it could be adapted so that it would work on him, and, while it wouldn't stop time, it would allow him to move far faster than he could otherwise. And if he could do that, he could accomplish far more in the time allotted for his chores than would otherwise be possible. It had taken him some time to perfect the spell and, once he had perfected it, it took even more time to learn how to move at a speed which was at least ten times his normal rate without out damaging himself by brushing into obstacles.

The cantrip would be effective now against the buccaneers as well, Jerrod realized. If he sped himself up, he could race through the pirates ranks slaying them at pace far beyond anything that they could counter. To do that, though, he needed a weapon and that was something he hadn't yet begun to carry. Berit did, however. He could appropriate her sword, she had no use for it at the moment. Still, there was a problem. He didn't know how to use a sword and, he was certain, he couldn't slay all the pirates at once and there were more than enough of them to kill all of the crew and butcher Berit before he could finish them even at his accelerated pace. Perhaps they might even come up with a way to neutralize his speed advantage once they had murdered his comrades. Even if they didn't, he couldn't sail Wavestrider on his own and he would be doomed to eventual death at sea.

The speed advantage was a good idea though. It was a start to the solution to the quandary which the young mage faced. If he wanted to save his companions he needed to do more and that was where the other spell he had discovered all those years ago while apprenticing with Astall came in. Jerrod was, like all mages, inherently somewhat lazy and, while increasing his speed had allowed him to finish the chores which he was assigned as an apprentice, racing around at ten times his normal rate took just as much effort and energy as doing the work at a more leisurely pace.

The second spell that he had discovered in the musty old tome that he had found in Astall's collection of arcana was one which animated objects. The affected objects operated as the caster wished. For example, if cast on a broom, the spell would cause the broom to move around under its own power at the direction of the caster. Unfortunately, each item upon which the spell was cast needed constant attention from Jerrod or the enchantment would dissipate. While that did save Jerrod effort, it didn't speed things up so Jerrod couldn't use it to finish his assignments more quickly. At least that was true until Jerrod had devised an enhancement of his own to the spell. Instead of merely animating objects and placing them under his command, Jerrod devised a method of imbuing whatever he cast the spell upon with spirits of their own. The spirits that Jerrod selected were drawn from the pool of spirits that inhabited animals, and Jerrod had found that he could select ones which were as docile and obedient as well-trained dogs. So while they were capable of independent action, whatever Jerrod animated still operated at his direction.

If he used both of his cantrips now, Jerrod realized, he might be able to defeat the pirates and save most of his comrades. First, he needed to speed himself up. Focussing his will, Jerrod cast the thaumaturgical cantrip that would transform his metabolism to one that operated at a rate ten times its normal tempo. Next, he went deep within himself and summoned his spirit. Using his own ethereal energy, he began to infuse objects from Wavestrider's deck with spirits from the void. Belaying pins, boat hooks, rope, and even the anchor chain, all began to stir just after the pirate's boarding planks began to plunk down bridging the last remaining gap between Wavestrider and her foes.

Together with Frothbreaker and his ilvan crew, Jerrod's newly quickened forces engaged the pirates. Remarkably, the cutthroats didn't flee as most men would when confronted by such a foe. At first they wavered, but one of their officers, a fellow who was far more perceptive than Jerrod would have liked, called out to them, "Don't break lads! Ignore the bric-a-brac! Slay the ilfs and you will slay the mage who is animating it!"

Instead of fleeing, the pirates began to concentrate their efforts on slaying the crew. Jerrod, seeing that there was need for haste, slid Berit's blade from its scabbard and rushed toward the foe. Wielding the sword like it was an axe, the young mage began to hew the corsairs at his accelerated speed. None could stand before him. Most didn't even realize that he was there until it was too late.

Unfortunately, Jerrod could only defend one side of the ship at a time even with his newly acquired alacrity. While he was busy protecting one group of Wavestrider's crew from the pirates that threatened to overwhelm them, the ilfs fighting the other shipload of marauders would begin to falter despite the magical augmentation of their numbers that Jerrod had provided. The young mage was forced to rush from port to starboard and back again repeatedly. Soon, the enormous amount of energy that he was expending both from maintaining his spells and from running to and fro began to tell on the young mage. The sword that he was so inexpertly wielding began to grow heavier and heavier. Finally, it grew so heavy that jerrod despaired of being able to lift the ilvan blade for even one more stroke. It was at that moment that one squad of the sea wolves, seeing Berit slumped on the deck, made for her inert form.

Jerrod, perceiving the threat to the young ilvan maiden from the other side of the ship, groaned with weariness and resignation. He knew that only he could save Berit's life and somehow that had begun to seem incredibly important. Gulping as realized that keeping his promise to Nynaeve was not going to be easy and that now it wasn't the only reason he had for keeping Berit alive, Jerrod hefted his sword one more time and, using the energy which had been provided by one last surge of adrenalin, fought his way through the press of battle toward the unconscious ilvan mage. Arriving at Berit's side at the same instant as did the band of corsairs, Jerrod swung his blade at the lead pirate's throat. The buccaneer's head flew. Unluckily, so did Jerrod. Slipping on the marauder's blood, Jerrod went down with a thud as he and his sword went in different directions. Dazed and nearly unconscious from the violence of his fall at his hastened pace, Jerrod found both himself and Berit at the mercy of the pirates.

The approaching band of sea wolves howled with triumph. One called out to their comrades, "It won't be long now, buckos, we've got both of their mages at our mercy. We split the gizzards of these two and it is all over but the shouting!"

It was at that moment that Frothbreaker appeared from out of nowhere at Jerrod's side. Clad in his white uniform which was now streaked with blood, both his own and that of his slain enemies, long hair streaming in the wind, the ilvan captain had taken on the semblance of an avenging angel. His blade flashed left, then right as he slew the marauders who threatened the two youthful magicians. Pirates fell from the bite of his blade like lambs to the teeth of a wolf. In moments, the entire pirate detachment had been slain.

It was much the same elsewhere on Wavestrider. Not a buccaneer remained upright aboard her. The pirates had all either fallen or fled back to their own vessels, vessels which were even now pulling up boarding planks and hacking away grapnels and attempting to get away from the ilvan warcraft. The ship was a scene from chaos. Its masts and rigging were hacked and rent. The rails which girded Wavestrider were cracked and sundered. The deck itself was littered with dead and wounded men and ilfs whose blood had stained nearly every inch of the wood dark, crimson red.

The sounds were nearly as horrific as the sights. Moans and sobs were punctuated by frequent screams of agony from the voices of dozens of wounded sailors. Unremitting streams of monotonous cursing in literally a dozen different languages provided the lyrics to a bizarre sort of sea chantey that was being called by the orders of the surviving ilvan officers. The ship itself laid down a background accompaniment of creaking, groaning wood and the cracks and thuds of broken spars hitting the deck and the sea.

Jerrod looked up woozily from were he had fallen. Seeing that the pirates were fleeing, he struggled to rise by grasping the root of the mast against which Berit lay. Staggering drunkenly as he attempted to rise, Jerrod struggled to regain his composure. Jerrod knew that the battle was not yet over. While he and his companions on Wavestrider had defeated this portion of the pirate flotilla, Urki and his were still badly outnumbered by cutthroats who crewed the ships that had headed toward the beach. Struggling to focus, Jerrod strained to get a clear picture of what was happening there. Peering in he saw that the pirate craft had gone as close to shore as they dared and then lower their longboats and sent ashore a landing party of over a hundred men. That meant that Urki and his party were outnumbered by worse than five to one. In addition, Jerrod sensed that the pirate magician had also gone ashore and was raising some sort of potent spell that was creating massive disruptions in the local mana field.

* * * * * *

The trip to shore from Wavestrider was relatively brief for Urki and the force which he brought with him. The two boats which carried them glided smoothly in to shore where the warrior and the others disembarked. Looking around, Urki saw little other than what he had expected. A thin line of beach sloped shallowly inland to where the fringes of a tropical jungle waited, jungle which was broken only by a faint path which continued further inland. Looking back toward the ilvan vessel which had brought him here as he stepped into the lapping waves at the bow of the first longboat, Urki saw that the pirates were following their old pattern and appearing at sunset. That suited him just fine. It meant that his plan should go as he had devised it. As Urki continued to gaze out to sea, he saw Wavestrider begin to make ready to weigh anchor and flee as he had directed.

Satisfied, the young warrior began to deploy his own forces. Ordering the marines to secrete themselves along the jungle fringe in the vicinity of the path, Urki called Derazha and Brianna over to him.

"It seems as if things are going according to plan for once, the pirates come on schedule as if invited," began the male half of the warrior twins. "Derazha, I would appreciate it if you would position yourself on our left flank. Hold yourself and three others back when the rest of us make contact. I'd like to set up a sort of pincer movement to take them in the flank after the initial surprise. It should give them another jolt and, hopefully, that will be enough to turn the battle in our favor."

Derazha silently nodded her agreement.

Urki continued, "Brianna, I will command the right flank. I'd like you to hold the center and begin the battle with whatever spell it is you have devised. Before we deploy though, I'd like you to cast your senses about and see if you can detect anything out of the ordinary."

The shaman replied, "I already have. On the way in, I did an astral search of the immediate area and nothing untoward manifested itself. I did detect a faint magical presence deeper in the jungle, but it was very weak, almost as if something shielded it from my observation. Would you like me to try again?"

"No, that should be good enough for now," Urki responded as he watched Wavestrider begin to get underway. "Once the battle is over, we'll have time for you to make a more complete scan. Mayhap by then Jerrod and/or Berit will be here to lend you aid."

Abruptly, Urki fell silent. His gaze grew abstracted and a frown began to crease his brow. "What the....?!! What are they doing?!!! That isn't what I told Frothbreaker to do! Has he gone mad, or is he just a glory hound? No! Don't attack them!" he shouted angrily. "We'll all be slain!"

Urki's consternation grew as the ilvan warship continued to head for the pirate flotilla. By now Urki could discern that there were at least three ships headed for the island. He had been right. There were more than just the single ship which had made its presence known during the voyage to the island. As he watched, two of the three vessels which he saw broke of from the course that they had set toward the island and began to sail toward Wavestrider.

"Why are those fool ilfs doing that?" Urki growled to no one in particular.

Not expecting a response, the warrior was surprised when Brianna responded, "I can't answer your question with certainty, but perhaps it may have something to do with the cloaking spell I detect around the corsair squadron. Look!" she exclaimed as she pointed toward the pirate vessels which were heading toward Jerrod and Wavestrider. "The two ships that are breaking off, they aren't a pair at all. There are four of them. The cloaking spell is still focussed on the one that is approaching us. I'll wager that they have gone beyond its scope. That would mean that there are almost certainly two ships headed our way, not the single vessel that we see! Perhaps Frothbreaker's deviation from the strategy which you devised was intended as a warning!"

"Certes, that does seem likely. Well, we'd better get to our positions. Things look as if they are going to be far more dangerous than we'd bargained for, but there is nothing we can do now except carry out our plan. It was our best hope before and, I believe that even with the changed situation, it still is. We may not survive, but if we can prevent the pirates from gaining the Sword we will have at least accomplished something."

The trio of heroes took their positions among the ilvan marines as the two buccaneer vessels which approached the beach rapidly closed. The shore-bound adventurers helplessly watched the sea battle, first with trepidation and then with at least momentary elation as they saw Jerrod and Berit sink two of their foes. Before they could observe any more of the conflict for control of the sea, the pirates who had come to contest ashore for dominance of the Isle of Mists had sailed up and dropped anchor. Urki and his colleagues waited silently in their places of concealment as the pirate craft lowered nearly a dozen longboats loaded with men.

Urki peered intently at the last of the longboats that the pirates had lowered for there was a figure aboard that was far too tall to be a human and far too broad to be an ilf. As the boat neared shore, Urki recognized the figure as a troll. When the boat had come a few yards nearer, Urki had a sinking feeling. It wasn't just any troll. It was a troll mage or shaman of some sort. As the realization that his little group was outnumbered by at least five to one and it had no significant magical advantage struck home, Urki groaned with dread. It appeared as if there was a good chance that none of them would survive this day.

"If I am to die, then I want to take as many of them with me as I can. I might need a manservant or a dozen in the afterlife." Urki thought to himself grimly as the marauders gathered on the beach and began to move toward the path. "Now, if we can just wait until the right moment. I hope Brianna can do as she promised."

As if she had been listening to him, Brianna chose that moment to unleash the spell which she had prepared. There was chaos among the ranks of the raiders as their rear ranks suddenly began to wilt like flowers in the desert as they succumbed to the incantation of unconsciousness which the human shaman had cast. Still badly outnumbered, but determined to squeeze as much out of their advantages as possible, Urki leapt up with a howl and led the charge as he and his ilvan allies struck the front of the mass of pirates while they were still suffering from the shock of seeing their comrades fall for no apparent reason.

The pirates fell back in the face of the fierce assault which buffeted them. Several fell to that first magical blow and it appeared for a moment as if Urki's stratagem might work as he had planned, despite the unlooked for increase in the number of pirates with whom the warrior and his friends were faced. But it was not to be. The troll shaman rallied the pirates. Seeing the effects of Brianna's spell and feeling the wave of mana wash over him, the trollkin mage began a chant of his own. As Urki and Brianna and their ilvan confederates struck the front of the pirate band, the troll cast his own spell as a counter to the effects of Brianna's magic. The fallen pirates began stir groggily. Soon they were rising and, with their added numbers once more committed to the fray, the buccaneers began to press Urki and his warriors back.

Derazha chose that moment to unleash her flanking attack. Unexpectedly struck in the side by an unknown foe, the corsair assault slowed, then ground once more to a halt. Unfortunately for their foes, the pirates' hesitation did not last long. The numbers with which Derazha had struck were insufficient to do serious harm to so many sea wolves. Once again, the marauders began to drive forward. One by one, the ilvan marines fell. Within in moments, the pirates had forced what was left of the band of heroes back to the fringe of the jungle. Only Urki, Brianna, Derazha and two of the marines were left. The situation looked grim, for there were still at least half of the original number of pirates involved in the fray.

The odds had gotten worse. Urki and his comrades were no longer outnumbered five to one, the corsairs edge had now shifted to better than ten to one. One of the ilfs fell, taking two cutthroats with him. The other ilf's demise followed quickly. The three heroes stood shoulder to shoulder. They refused to give up any more ground. Brianna's immense axe swept in a crimson arc that was almost to fast for the eye to see. Derazha's claws shredded any pirate that dared to come near. Urki's falchion glittered as it sliced the air and raider throats with equal abandon. The remaining pirates fell back before the heroes' ferocity. None but the truly bold or foolish dared to come within striking distance of the heroes' deadly weapons and they quickly fell.

The respite was destined to end quickly, though, for the corsairs had their troll shaman to fall back on. Roaring his rage, the trollkin mage began another chant. Mana gathered around him like storm clouds gathering around a mountain. Brianna could see that the power which the enemy shaman was accreting to himself was enormous. She couldn't discern the exact nature of his incantation, but she knew that it boded ill for her and her comrades. She began a chant of her own that would create a sphere of protection around herself and her two comrades.